Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints. — Ps. 116:15

Death is a beatitude! It is a liberating concept. if people would view death in this light, it would go far in relieving them of mankind's most dreaded experience. Even though we are all aware that death is inevitable, it is the rare person that has "the problem of dying" in proper perspective. Many people, including Christians, are reluctant to face the fact that they really will one day die. They don't want to think about it or talk about ii To some people it is sheer terror to think about their own death with any degree of reality.

Theologian Paul Tillich viewed the whole of human history in terms of three basic fears: guilt, death, meaninglessness. Re saw these fears expressed in the literature produced through the ages. What great thinkers have said in coping with the fear of death is as diverse as "There's no bad mother, and no good death," which is a Yiddish proverb, and "Death is the golden key that opens the palace of eternity," expressed by the blind John Milton.

In this piece I am saying that the insight of William Mitford is right on target when he writes, "Men fear death, as if unquestionably the greatest evil, and yet no man knows that it may not be the greatest good." That death is a blessing to be cherished may be far from most people's thinking, but I am confident that we can prove that to be the case both from reason and revelation.

We are all impressed by the beatitudes of the Bible, and we are acquainted with most of them: Blessed are the poor in spirit; Blessed are the pure in heart; Blessed are the peacemakers. On and on it goes. It hardly occurs to us that the Bible also names death as a beatitude. "Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord" (Rev. 14:13) is a neglected beatitude. It is a blessing we need to believe and receive, for it is saying that when a believer dies he is fortunate. He is better off than if he were still living in this world. Our drive for self-preservation makes it difficult for us to accept this truth.

That beatitude was pronounced from heaven itself by an anonymous voice. The voice told John, isolated as he was on the island of Patmos, to write down the beatitude. To be told to write down something, which occurs now and again in Revelation, was both for preservation and for emphasis. We don't know who spoke the beatitude from heaven, but it is exciting to see that the Holy Spirit made a response to it, as if to underscore its truth: "Yes, that they may rest from their labors, and their works follow them."

How this should buoy up the hope of the believer! He has the assurance of heaven itself, underscored by the Holy Spirit, that death is a beatitude. Two reasons are given as to why death is a blessing. The dead rest from their earthly labors, which probably refers to being free of oppression and persecution. There is no more pain and no more sorrow. God wipes away all tears from their eyes. They are at rest. This can't mean that they rest in the sense of no longer having anything to do, for we know that the blessed dead (who are not really dead but alive) are busy serving God and facing new challenges. But the sorrows and sufferings of this world are done with.

Another reason why death is a beatitude, according to the Holy Spirit, is that "their works follow them." This is our assurance that the believer never lives in this world in vain. He leaves his good works behind and they will bear their fruit, even when it may not be apparent. Our kindly deeds, our words of encouragement, our ongoing efforts in behalf of our family, church, and world will eventually bear fruit. That the Holy Spirit would say this of the triumphant believers then in heaven would suggest that it was then evident that their efforts were indeed bearing fruit. In heaven they could see that they had not lived and died (perhaps by martyrdom) in vain. Their works follow them, even into heaven itself.

The Bible names another reason why death is a beatitude: "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints" (Ps. 116:15). If I have counted right, there are only two things in Scripture that are described as precious to God. One is that "living stone" which is Christ in 1 Pet. 2:4. The other is the death of his saints. There are many things, of course, that are precious to God, but it is interesting that these are the two things specifically mentioned. If our death is precious to God, we should have no fear of it nor any dread of it.

Some believers point out that it is not death that they dread but the act of dying itself. That is an understandable concern, but we have good reason for believing that dying is no ordeal. Illness that leads to death might be painful, but illness is always more or less painful. By God's grace we bear the pain and it soon passes. But dying itself is no more than walking from one room into the next. We can count on it being simple and beautiful. Paul spoke of his death as "my departure" (2 Tim. 4:6), which is a mariner's term, referring to the loosening of the ropes that frees the boat to ease out to sea. He sees dying as being with Christ and "very far better" (Philip. 1:23), and he likens it unto being "at home with the Lord" (2 Cor. 5:8) and "falling asleep in Jesus" (1 Thess. 4:14).

The imagery of being at home with the Lord is beautiful. It assures us that in death we are not leaving home but going home. And dying itself is no more than loosening the ropes that hold the boat and allowing it to ease out into the deep, which takes us home. Dying? There is nothing to it. You can take it from Paul that it is no more than falling off to sleep-"asleep in Jesus," except that we are never really asleep in death but always conscious.

Death is a beatitude also because it is a necessary part of God's plan for us. It would be tragic if we were destined to live forever in this world. We would soon be longing for death so that we could move on to the next world. John Bunyan was right when he saw death as "a passage out of prison into a palace; out of a sea of troubles into a haven of rest." This makes death the entree of all that awaits us in glory. The call of death is thus the call to come up higher. It is the call to come home.

Jesus thus spoke of the necessity of his own death, but what he said applies to us all: "Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain" (Jn. 12:12).

We know that the wheat seed must die if it is to live again in multiplied abundance';. Jesus bore much fruit by dying, for countless millions have been blessed through his death. It is true of all believers, for we cannot bear fruit in heaven and we cannot make any sense of our earthly sojourn except by dying.

This makes death the most natural and reasonable thing in the world. Death makes life rational. Can you imagine a king building a palace without a door? Or a student entering a school from which he never graduates? By the very nature of life we see that it has its exit into something beyond. If life in this world is all there is, then it is all irrational, sheer absurdity. That the most rational of people all through the ages have longed for a life beyond, anticipating it in religion, poetry, and song, strongly implies it will be realized.

It is like an egg in a bird's nest that pulsates with life and potential. The little hatchling struggles to be free of its shell. It gradually pecks its way to freedom. While confined in its shell it has wings for flight and a throat for song, but if it remains in its shell it will never fly and never sing. If it ends there it is all nonsense. But if ours is a world where the hatchling breaks free from its shell and eventually flies and sings, then it is a world that makes sense.

So it is with every living soul. If all our hopes and longings end in death then life makes no sense. But if this world is "a vale of soul-making," as one poet puts it' and we are being prepared for something higher, then life here makes sense. When creatures destined to fly and sing do indeed fly and sing, we can have hope that our destiny will also be realized.

It is reassuring that the one who knew the most about life and death spoke of a future life with absolute certainty. To the thief that died alongside him Jesus said, "Today you will be with me in paradise." He did not simply express hope that there might be something more for them. He had complete assurance that in a matter of hours he would be in heaven and the thief would be with him.

Only death stood between Jesus and paradise. It was a door he entered with joy. When we follow him it will be no different for us. We too can be absolutely certain. — the Editor